New Year's In The Tin Box
by headinthetardis
Summary: A Cabin Pressure-Sherlock crossover t during New Year's.
1. Chapter 1

John walked through the aisle, looking for his favourite brand of jam, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text from Sherlock.

Come home. Now.  
-SH

He rolled his eyes and put the phone back in his pocket—it was probably just an over-reaction to something trivial, like rearranging the order of fingers in the fridge by mistake, or he had discovered the 244th type of tobacco ash and needed someone to show off to, or, heaven forbid, he was just bored. Whatever it was, it could surely wait till Jon had finished his grocery shopping. He continued walking along the aisle, when his phone buzzed again.

I am not being 'dramatic'. It is urgent. Be home in ten minutes.  
-SH

John ignored his orders, and was about to stuff his phone back into his pocket, when, to his great annoyance, his phone buzzed for the third time.

For goodness sake John, do you have trouble comprehending simple statements? You must come home. Now.  
-SH

John knee there was no point in trying to argue with him. His jaw clenched, and his face hard as stone, he sent a reply.

I am on my way.  
-JW

He shoved his phone back into his coat and stormed out of the store, leaving his jam, and his hopes of a quiet evening, inside it.

* * *

"What was so important, Sherlock?" said John irritably, entering the apartment.  
"Ah, yes-You have to book a plane." Said Sherlock nonchalantly, reading sheet music with his violin in hand.  
"I'm sorry-what?" asked John, getting more annoyed by the minute.  
Now it was Sherlock's turn to roll his eyes.  
"I do hope you remember that we are supposed to be in France on the first of January for a case? That series of murders in Paris? Bodies found in museums? Monsieur Roux, the sullen French policeman? Ring any bells?"

John resisted the urge to yell at him. "Of course I remember, we planned on leaving on the 31st" he replied in a strained voice, his fists clenched. "I also remember you telling me that Mycroft would arrange for us to fly there."  
Sherlock snorted with derision "Mycroft is an old fool who is incapable of listening to reason or doing even the simplest of tasks properly." He said sourly  
John rubbed his face as he realised what might have happened.  
"Oh gods Sherlock-what did you do?"  
"I didn't do anything!" said Sherlock defensively  
'It was him! My dear brother is under the impression that I am a crime solving puppet who exists only to cater to his whims and fancies. He wished my help with something that is apparently of 'national importance' saying that I am obliged to help him considering the enormous amounts of aid he gives me. I of course, declined, and told him that the only aid I receive from him is in the form of entertainment for he has several ridiculous characteristics that I can mock when I am bored. He, for some reason, didn't take that very well and said that of it were not for him, we would live a very hard life indeed, to which I replied saying that I am not a child who needs his older brother to look after him. At this point he threw one of his childish tantrums and swore that he will not help me with anything henceforth."  
John stared at him in disbelief.  
"I don't believe this"  
"I know," said Sherlock "Mycroft is such a child. I don't understand why he feels the need to over-react so dramatically to everything "  
"Oh well thank god you're above all that!" yelled John, his voice dripping with sarcasm  
Sherlock put down his violin to look at John, his eyes widening by the tiniest of fractions  
"John," he said warily "I am sensing that you are upset with me, however I see no reason as to why-"  
He was cut off mid-sentence by a now furious John, who shouted " Of course I'm angry with You!You expect me to book a flight for New Year's Eve two days before the 31st, and also deal with god-knows-what other hassles now that Mycroft has decided not to help us, all just because you and your brother choose to act like insolent, bratty children who throw hissy fits when they don't get what they want!" he finished, clutching the back of the armchair and positively fuming with anger.  
Sherlock looked slightly bewildered by John's outburst, but it was only a momentary display of emotion, as he then picked up his violin and his face returned to its usual state of non-expression.

"It is my brother who throws 'hissy fits'. If you wish to be mad at someone, kindly do so at him. As for the flight-Yes I do expect you to book one for the 31st-how else will we get to Paris?"  
"Oh I don't know, let me see" replied John, crossing his arms and contorting his face in mock concentration "Maybe you could just apologize to him!?"  
Sherlock looked like John had just asked him to eat a bowl of fish fingers and custard (or something equally unpleasant and bizarre).  
"I will do no such thing" he said coldly  
"Why am I not surprised" muttered John under his breath  
"you can try negotiating with him if you wish" continued Sherlock "but I doubt you'll get any form of reason or logic through that thick skull of his"  
For the first time that night, John agreed with him. The Holmes brothers were both insolent, melodramatic, and stubborn as mules-neither of them was going to give in. He would be forced to make all the arrangements himself.

* * *

"Fuchsia" said Douglas "It sounds like the name of a Disney princess"

Martin laughed "Princess Fuchsia from Far Far Away-you're quite right! It does!" he said  
Douglas chuckled. "Okay, now your turn" he said, motioning Martin to speak  
'hmm..." he said thoughtfully "blood orange."  
"Ahhh"replied Douglas "good one" He was about take his chance, when Arthur entered the flight deck

"Hello chaps!" he said cheerily.  
"Hello Arthur" said Douglas "That's a very nice Palatinate blue tie you're wearing"  
Arthur looked down at his tie, confused. "Err sorry-what about my tie?"  
"It's palatinate," replied Douglas. Seeing the still-puzzled look on Arthur's face, he added "I'm talking about the colour, see, me and Martin have got a little game going on. It's called 'Who can name the most pretentious-sounding colours' "  
'Ah-brilliant!" said Arthur brightly  
'Of course it is," said Douglas "Now, I believe you came in here with a purpose, Arthur?"  
'Oh yes-I just wanted to tell you that Mum is on her way here and she has that scarily happy look on her face-the one you told me to warn you about. So that's what I'm doing-warning you!" He finished, smiling at them, pleased that he had followed Douglas' instructions correctly. The two pilots, on the other hand, had looks of horror upon their faces.  
"Oh dear," said Douglas "Brace yourself Martin, the grim reaper approaches"  
And at that very moment, Carolyn entered the room, smiling brightly.  
"Talk of the Devil" muttered Martin under his breath  
"And she shall appear before you in an onyx black suit, with equally dark news" finished Douglas.  
"Oh now now" said Carolyn, her cheery demeanour unfazed by their cynicism. "I have good news! Really!"  
"Oh how wonderful. Pray tell us what joyful tidings you bring" said Martin sarcastically  
"We have a booking for New Year's!"  
"No." said Douglas and Martin in unison.  
"But you haven't even heard the whole thing! Just listen-"  
"No Carolyn! I don't care if the Duke of York is our client-you cannot make us work on New Year's Eve!" said Douglas firmly.  
"Douglas is right!" added Martin "You already made us fly on Christmas eve-this is too much"  
"What if I were to tell you that you would get paid?" asked Carolyn coolly.  
"What?" asked Martin, his voice equal parts confusion and disbelief.  
"Our clients are paying us quite a large sum for New Year's Eve. Such a large sum, in fact, that there will be enough to cover our expenses and a little bit left over which I have generously decided to give to you as your first, and probably last, salary."  
Martin was stunned. "So you mean to say I'll actually get paid to fly?"

"For just this once, do you agree? "  
"Yes," said Marin "Yes of course!"  
Good! That's settled then!" she said, and turned around to leave, when Douglas stopped her  
"Hang on a minute!" he said "What about those of us who already get paid to do our jobs? What is our incentive for spending New Year's Eve in a tin box in the sky?"  
"You will be paid extra-a New Year's Eve bonus, if you will" said Carolyn bitterly-she hated the term 'bonus', and she hated it even more when it was directed at Douglas Richardson.  
"Ah," said Douglas "Well, in that case believe the tin box is ideal for a New Year's party."


	2. Chapter 2

"MJN Air? I've never heard of it! And that's saying something, because I hear about , when you come across something that I haven't heard about, there is only one possible conclusion-it is not worth hearing about. Now do you mind telling me why we will be flying with an airline that is unworthy of my attention?" said Sherlock, peering up from behind his newspaper, one of his eyebrows raised, as though daring John to come up with an answer.  
John stood calmly, his hands behind his back, and said "Because you are an idiot.A colossal idiot who had to go and get and get all our previous arrangements cancelled, forcing me to book an unheard of airline as a last resort, because they're the only ones available on New Year's , we can either take this flight and go to Paris, or we can sit here while you throw your tantrums, and watch someone else solve the case. What would you prefer?" he finished, raising his eyebrow in a mock imitation of Sherlock's.  
Sherlock glared at John, angrily shutting his newspaper and then storming out of the room.

"Are you both ready? The clients will be here soon."  
"Yup, all set" replied Martin. "Though you never really told us who our clients are"  
"They are two men-Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson"  
Upon hearing this, Arthur gasped. "Sherlock Holmes?!Mum, did you just say Sherlock Holmes?!" he asked frantically, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.  
"Yes, I ? Do you know him?"  
"Of course I do, mum, I love Sherlock Holmes!" he declared excitedly.  
"Well, there's something we didn't see coming" said Martin jokingly.  
"Yes, though it does explain why Arthur has had such bad luck when it comes to females." added Douglas  
"Oh no not like that Douglas! I meant that I'm a huge fan of his!" said Arthur  
"Why? Who is he?" asked Martin  
"Only the greatest detective in the world! He's absolutely brilliant!"  
"Of course he is," said Douglas "But how do you know about him? When have you ever needed a detective?"  
"He's been all over the news! Everyday there's something in the papers about him solving another difficult case"  
"Ah, so he works with the police?" asked Carolyn.  
"No, no-he's a consulting detective."  
"And what does that mean?" enquired Martin  
"No idea. But he helps out the police a lot, and regular people too. He's supposed to be really REALLY intelligent-they say that he can take one look at you and tell you you're entire life story!"  
"Preposterous." said Douglas.  
"No! He really can!" argued Arthur.  
"No he can't! That's impossible! It's probably just something the media's hyped up"  
"No, honestly Douglas, he-" began Arthur, but Carolyn cut him off. She said, "Well whatever the truth guess we'll know when he arrives, won't we?"  
At that moment, her phone started ringing. "Ah, speaking of-looks like they're here!"

* * *

"Hello! Welcome to MJN Air, and .I am Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, the owner of this airline" said a grey-haired short woman politely, but not overly cheerily.  
"Oh, right"said John, taken aback by the fact that the CEO was greeting him personally. But he thought it best not to mention it-it might not be polite. He went with just a simple "Hello, good morning"  
Carolyn escorted him and Sherlock up into the aircraft, where they saw two men-one a small redhead, and the other relatively bigger, with a more authoritative look-in pilot's uniforms. Carolyn motioned towards them and said "These are our pilots-First officer Douglas Richardson, and Captain Martin Crieff"  
'Ah,"said John nodding towards the second, bigger pilot, "Nice to meet you Captain," He was about to greet the other pilot (who now for some reason looked very annoyed) as well, when Sherlock suddenly spoke.  
"He's not the Captain"  
"What?" asked John, confused.  
Sherlock rolled his eyes-people could be SO oblivious to their surroundings. "Look at their uniforms! His has got 3 stripes" he said, motioning towards the one John had mistakenly assumed was Captain "Whereas he's got four. And also, he's got the more ridiculous hat" motioning to the other one "Honestly John-you were in the military, one would think you'd know your uniforms!"  
John ignored the snide comment (He lived with Sherlock Holmes-if he replied to each snide comment, he would drive himself mad) "Oh, right" he said simply  
"Sorry about that, Captain Crieff," he said to the he wasn't listening-his attention was somewhere else. He was looking at Sherlock, his eyes gleaming, and so full of reverence and gratitude, as though Sherlock was an angel sent from the high heavens to acknowledge this little man.

"Precisely," he said, again with such veneration, as though Sherlock had just answered the question to life, the universe and everything.  
The pilot standing next to him, First Officer Douglas, held Martin by the arm and said "Excuse us, gentlemen-I fear we must rush back to the flight deck before Captain Martin's adoration and awe sweep him off his feet-literally . I do not imagine a flight with an unconscious captain would be pleasant." And with that, he left towards the flight deck, pulling Martin behind him, leaving a very confused John standing there with Sherlock.  
"Come along sirs, please take your seat." said Carolyn  
"Uh...right, of course" said John, finally tearing his eyes away from the direction of the flight and Sherlock then put their luggage in the overhead carriers and settled into their seats.  
"Err...what was that all about?"  
"What was what all about?" asked Sherlock, looking around the aircraft.  
"That thing with the captain...why was he acting so...peculiar?"  
"Well, it's quite clichéd really. He's a small man, and rather meek-looking, not the sort you'd expect to be the captain of an aircraft. His first officer, on the other hand, is burly and authoritative-definitely Captain material. Undoubtedly many people have come to the same conclusion and Captain Crieff constantly has to deal with people getting the two mixed up-like you did. He's a little man doing a job at which he is constantly underappreciated and taunted-any sign of recognition or acknowledgement would make him very happy indeed. My observation was, to him, such a recognition, and it was apparently enough to render him-oh god you must be joking" he said suddenly, looking at the aisle. John followed his gaze and saw a steward walking towards them. He was smiling broadly, to the point where it was almost disconcerting, carrying a tray with two cups, and wearing on his head, a deerstalker-much like the one that the media had made a signature of Sherlock's.  
"Oh dear," said John, attempting apprehensiveness, but failing to do so in his amusement. The steward reached their seats and said "Hello,sir,I am Arthur Knapp-Shappey and I will be your steward today on this journey."

"Most exciting" mumbled Sherlock, slumping in his seat  
"Oh c'mon Sherlock, be nice" said John in a chastising manner, but still smiling.  
'Hello Arthur" he said to the steward and taking one of the cups from the tray "Thank may I say-that's a very nice hat you have on" he said, barely stifling his laughter  
"Oh, thank you, do you think, ?" asked Arthur, grinning from ear to ear

"You can't be serious" muttered Sherlock, sinking further into his seat  
"It's such a great hat! It's got flaps!" continued Arthur "Though I've been meaning to ask-what do you need the flaps for? Do they help you deduce things?"  
Sherlock straightened up, glaring at Arthur. He opened his mouth to say something (no doubt a long and insulting monologue about the disadvantages of ear-flaps and the general uselessness of deerstalker hats), when Arthur was saved by Carolyn, who came up beside him  
"I just wished to inform you that we shall be talking off in a few minutes, so kindly fasten your seatbelts, sirs" she said, and then muttered "Code Red" softly to Arthur while John and Sherlock put on their seatbelts.  
"Yes, mum" said Arthur, a tinge of sadness in his voice-he had really wanted to hear Sherlock talk about the hat! Maybe he could have also given him some tips on investigations and deductions, thought Arthur, as he and Carolyn made their way out of the cabin.

* * *

"So," said Douglas, as he adjusted the controls and prepared for take-off "Looks like Arthur isn't the only on in love with Sherlock Holmes"  
"Oh come off it Douglas" said Martin "It's nothing of the sort. I was just slightly pleased by the fact that he knew uniforms so well and that he was able to identify correctly who the Captain was. A lot of people get it wrong, you know"  
"_Slightly pleased_? England was _slightly pleased_ when Germany lost the were so giddy with admiration you had floated up to the proverbial cloud nine."  
"Oh please, Douglas, there's no need to exaggerate"  
"I'm sorry Arthur I can't hear you over the sound of your inner teenage girl who is squealing with happiness that the light-eyed man with the curly locks noticed her"  
"Oh shut up and focus on getting us into the air, Douglas" snapped Martin, his face turning almost as red as his hair.


	3. Chapter 3

"Bored." Said Sherlock, restlessly shaking his leg and fiddling with his seatbelt.  
"Run out of things to deduce, have you? That's new." Replied John, his eyes fixed on the magazine he was half-heartedly flipping through. Sherlock had spent the last 20 minutes flitting around the plane, examining every inch of it, till he finally got bored and sat down dejectedly.  
"Oh it's just a boring ordinary airplane-well, not exactly ordinary, its condition is a lot below what most people call average-but nonetheless, it's nothing extraordinary. It's boring. You're boring. Everything's boring. I AM BORED." he said, slamming his hands into the arm rest at the end of his deeply insightful speech. John jerked up at the sudden movement.  
"Calm down Sherlock!" he said, in annoyance. He put his magazine away and settled back into his seat, crossing his arms and closing his eyes "Why don't you take a nap or something?" he said  
"A nap?" responded Sherlock, his eyes narrowed "What good is a nap? How is it useful to me in any way?"

"Well it would be pretty useful to me" murmured John, thinking wishfully of the peace and quiet he would get should Sherlock decide to shut up for once in his life.  
"Sleep is an absolute waste of time "said Sherlock

"Oh yes, compared to jumping around like a kid and shouting, which is so productive"

Sherlock cast John a dirty look, and muttered incoherently about the uselessness of dormancy under his breath in frustration. John ignored him, keeping his eyes tightly shut and blocking out Sherlock's ramblings. He was determined to have a nice short nap before they landed and embarked on what would undoubtedly be a very eventful investigation.  
Sherlock was apparently determined to not let that happen.  
"I need something to do!" he exclaimed loudly.  
John opened his eyes and resigned himself to the fact that this flight would be a sleepless one. He straightened up and rubbed his hand across his face.  
"Why don't you brush up on your French?" He suggested  
"Ma français est parfait" replied Sherlock in impeccable French.  
"Of course" said John, sighing.  
"Out of curiosity-when did you learn the language? Age six or something?" asked John  
"No.I learnt it the day before we left. I had other things to occupy me when I was six."  
"Oh yes-being a fulltime pirate must've been very hectic!" said John, smiling broadly.  
Sherlock sighed "I really do need to tell brother dear to stop spreading childhood fables"  
John chuckled softly. "Hang on a second though," he said, suddenly remembering something "If you learnt French just before the trip, what about that case? The one with the French delegate?You said the only way you managed to establish any contact with him was by acting like a Frenchman-how'd you manage that without speaking French?"

The upper corner of Sherlock's mouth curled up in a small mysterious smile, as he said "I didn't need to speak French. I took the caution of taking Lestrade along with me whenever I went to see him, so that it would seem as if I had to speak in English so as to not keep my British friend out of the conversation. Then it was just a matter of acting French."  
"Acting French?" said John, his eyebrows raised in slight scepticism.  
"Oh yes-it just involved drawing on a moustache and talking in a French accent-it wasn't that hard, really" replied Sherlock, his smile widening slightly.  
John remained unconvinced "You're fibbing"  
"Well, about the moustache-yes, but not the accent"  
"No" said John, shaking his head slightly "I refuse to believe that you convinced a French delegate that you were a Frenchman just by imitating their accent"  
"Well clearly you've never heard my French accent."  
"Oh go on then" said John bemusedly, leaning back in his seat, his eyebrows still raised  
Sherlock, not one to bow down from a challenge spoke immediately.  
"Bonjour monsieur,Mah name is François.I zhust wished to ask yu some is mah idiote co-opuhrate wiz us" he said in what was indeed an impeccable French accent, albeit a very comical one.  
John burst out laughing, while Sherlock's face broke out into a wide grin, as he laughed as well.  
"Oh Jesus" said John, breathless from having laughed so much "I'd forgotten you could be funny" he said, trying to regain his composure  
"Well, I endahvur to, monsieur"  
John lost control of himself once more, and started laughing again.  
Sherlock had seldom seen John so amused, and watching him crack up like that, Sherlock could not resist chortling himself. And at that moment, the the cabin address system came on.  
*bing bong*  
"Ah, and now we 'ave our capitane Martin du Crieff!" said Sherlock, unable to stop himself.  
John's laughs evolved into guffaws, as he bore witness to this extremely rare and unexpected display of Sherlock's humorous side. But then again, if anyone could expose the rare and unexpected side of Sherlock Holmes, it was John Watson.

* * *

* Bing bong *

"Good evening passengers," said Martin through the cabin address system "This is your captain speaking. I just wished to inform you that we will be reaching Paris in the next 10 minutes. So kindly fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing"  
He switched off the address and adjusted the controls "Ready for landing, Douglas?"  
"I , Paris is not."  
"What?"  
"I just had a word with , airport security has received word that our plane is carrying 'illegal substances' and so the minute we land, we will have to submit to a search and we will be detained till they search the plane"  
"WHAT?!" exclaimed Martin "Illegal substances?!Oh dear lord, Douglas what did you do?"

"It wasn't me!"

"Oh right, because it's me and Arthur and Carolyn that are famous for flouting the rules and fooling around with customs!"  
"No, really Martin-it wasn't me! You have to believe me!"  
"Well then who else could it be?"  
"Maybe our passengers?"  
"Oh that's just preposterous!"  
"Martin, I need you set aside your little man-crush for a while now and -"  
"Oh really Douglas! It is not a man-crush! I was just saying that it's quite unlikely because, if you remember, our passengers help Scotland Yard! They work with the police! Don't you think they would've noticed if they were some sort of smugglers?"  
Douglas though for a minute. "You make a fair point. But then who on earth put illegal substances on our plane?"  
"I don't know..." said Martin. He switched on the intercom and called Carolyn.  
"Ahh well if it isn't Pinocchio!" she said  
"Carolyn, I have something I need to-wait, what?"  
"I was referring to your recent blatant lie about the amount of time it would take to land.10 minutes were over 10 minutes ago! What's going on?"

"Carolyn, it's something serious. Come to the flight deck"  
"Certainly not. Whatever you need to say can be said perfectly well on the intercom. I see no need for me to exert myself physically."  
"Carolyn I'm not messing around! Honestly-this is very very need to come now."  
Carolyn sighed loudly "Oh all right! I'm coming."

"Illegal substances?!Oh heavens, Douglas, what have you done?" groaned Carolyn  
"It wasn't me!" replied Douglas , they were being very unfair. He would never smuggle illegal substances…and get caught!  
"Oh really? Then who was it?"  
"I don't know!"  
"We considered the passengers," said Martin "but then dismissed the idea- they can't be smugglers. They're famous for helping the police!"  
Carolyn considered this and then said "True. But nonetheless, someone is responsible! And if it wasn't Douglas, which I am still not inclined to believe, it might be them. We need to go out and have a word with them."

"Yes, all go ahead," said Douglas "I'll inform ATC to put us on hold for a while"  
" can stay behind and do that by himself-you need to come with me."  
"Why?"  
"Because you're big and scary looking, a trait which might help us in a confrontation."  
Martin scowled, while Douglas shrugged nonchalantly "Fair enough." He said, and with that, he and Carolyn exited the flight deck.

* * *

John glanced at his watch-it had now been 20 minutes since the captain had announced that they would be landing.  
"What's taking so long?" he muttered under his breath. At that moment, Carolyn and Douglas entered the room.  
"Gentlemen," said Carolyn "we have some news."  
Sherlock frowned-she was out of character-and so was the first previous ( and what he assumed usual) looks of arrogance and authority , though not entirely gone, were interspersed with those of alarm and confusion.  
"What's going on?" asked John, who had noticed their change in expression as well.  
"Well, a slight problem has arisen." Began Carolyn "We were preparing for landing, when we were informed that our plane (along with its passengers and crew) must submit to a thorough search by airport security immediately upon our , Paris has received word that this plane is carrying illegal , I have full trust in my crew," the corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly when she said this "and believe that none of them are responsible for this. Seeing as there is no one else aboard this plane, you gentlemen are our only remaining suspects."  
Sherlock and John both groaned loudly.  
"Illegal substances?!Dammit Sherlock what have you done?" said John in frustration at the same time Sherlock said "Oh Mycroft, you insufferable nuisance" in a similar manner.  
John looked up suddenly "Mycroft?" he said, his eyebrows knitted "You think Mycroft arranged all this?"  
"Oh of course he did-ah! And here he is now!" said Sherlock, referring to his phone that had suddenly started to ring.  
"Hello brother dear," said Mycroft "Enjoying Paris?"  
"Oh yes. The view is so beautiful from inside this airplane." replied Sherlock scathingly.  
"Inside the airplane?" said Mycroft, in what was obviously mock surprise "Why, haven't you landed yet?"  
"Oh stop your silly game Mycroft. I have no patience for it" said Sherlock spitefully. "Are you really that big of a child that you would have me arrested in a different country because I turned you down?"  
"Arrested? Heavens no, brother of mine. Just slightly inconvenienced." And with that, he hung up.  
Sherlock put away his phone angrily and turned to face the others. John took one look at Sherlock's hardened jaw and his clench fists, and inferred what must have transpired between the two brothers.  
"Godammit" he said, burying his face in his hands.  
All this while, Carolyn and Douglas had been standing there, watching in confusion the conversations between John and Sherlock, and the phone call.  
"What the bloody blazes is going on?" said Douglas  
"My brother's detestable and childish antics" said Sherlock scornfully.  
"Oh, not just your brother's." said John, standing up.

"Would you two gentlemen care to explain?" said Carolyn, her voice slightly higher pitched than usual.  
" -Shappey," began John, his head bowed "This may sound bizzare, but Sherlock's brother has organised this entire...nonsense…they have this feud between them. It's unbearable...I am terribly sorry that you and your crew have to deal with this when it's entirely our fault."  
"What? His brother? How? And more importantly-why?" asked Carolyn,her confusion mounting.  
"It's...difficult to explain, -Shappey...Sherlock's brother holds a very high position in the government...it is entirely possible for him to arrange something like this...as for why...well,Sherlock and his brother had a sort of fight. And well. Oh sod this-I'm sorry, but I really can't explain this." Finished John, giving up.  
Sherlock opened his mouth, undoubtedly with the intention of giving a better (albeit a more scathing) explanation than John's, when the cabin address came on agian .

*Bing bong*

"Uhh...everybody...I'm afraid I have some bad news" said Martin weakly "I just spoke to air traffic control again, and they said that we will not be searched immediately upon will conduct a background check on all of the members of this flight first, during which we all must remain inside the , according to them, will take anywhere from 2 hours…to 12, or more."  
The cabin was filled with a shocked silence.  
"Well," said Douglas, penetrating the quietness after a few minutes "It looks like we will be spending New Year's in the tin box after all."


End file.
